


Mesmerized

by Corollaire



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash Friday, it's still friday where i live i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corollaire/pseuds/Corollaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdanel/Anairë, post-Darkening. Started out as a simple drabble from Anairë's point of view and sort of... spiraled.<br/>Written for Femslash Friday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mesmerized

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously started this out as some random character/pairing reflection drabble-thing, and then abruptly there was sex. And then it was no longer a drabble. But... at least I got it done in time for this Femslash Friday.

Nerdanel had the hands of a sculptor, strong and rough with use. Anairë had never truly looked at them before, not from this close or for so long, but she found that she had the time to spend, now - and she had also found that it was a pastime that pleased her. Her fingers were long, agile - and well did she know their uses, now - and the palms calloused, adorned with rough patches that caught on the skin of her arms as Nerdanel ran her hands up them, as she cupped her face and leaned in closer.

Her lips, on the other hand, were quite soft. Anairë sighed into them, feeling them part beneath hers as she slipped her tongue between her teeth and let it dart between Nerdanel's. She opened her eyes, leaning back a bit to let Nerdanel's weight press into her a bit more, taking her time, examining the soft splash of freckles across her lover's cheeks, the feathery sweep of eyelashes that were a paler shade of red than the flame-dark curls that spread across the pale shoulders and spilled over Anairë's bare breasts, brushing against her nipples, sending an electric thrill through her.

She loved  _watching_  Nerdanel - had always loved watching her, whether it was by the side of her dark husband or on her own. She possessed a certain quality that Anairë had trouble putting into words, a hypnotizing brightness that she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from. It wasn't quite fire - too steady for that - and nor was it the even brilliance of treelight, or the cold sparkle of gems, or the distant glitter of starlight. Perhaps it was a sort of mixture of all that, and all the light Anairë had ever seen, and maybe that was why she could spend so much time doing nothing more than staring at Nerdanel, drinking it all in.

It was fitting - and perhaps inevitable - that a creature of such light would have attracted Fëanáro, whose name was all too apt. But Nerdanel was no longer his, and had never been, truly, for Anairë doubted than anyone could truly  _own_  someone like her. Her strength had not been dimmed by the seven children she bore, and in the end it had been enough for her to turn away from the intoxicating words of the Spirit of Fire.

(That was one thing they did not speak of, that choice that had been the same as Anairë's, though sometimes she wanted to ask -  _do you regret it, do you regret letting them leave? -_  and never did, not because she feared the response, but because she already knew what it was.)

"Anairë..." Nerdanel pulled back, grey eyes meeting those a few shades lighter. "You seem distracted. Is there something on your mind?"

 _You, Nel, only you,_ she almost said, even if it were not strictly  _true_ , but instead she fixed her gaze on the fall of copper hair over grey eyes and pulled Nerdanel in again, hands pressed against the soft swell of her breasts, fingers brushing the hard shapes of her dark nipples, teasing them until Nerdanel arched into her with a soft hiss of pleasure. She pressed her mouth to hers again, hard, as though she were trying to melt into her, as though Anairë could tell her this way - that Nerdanel was everything, for these few moments, and she wished that this was all she had ever known, all gold and sweet heat and light, nothing more and so perfect.

The soft press of fingers between her legs made her gasp, and she felt Nerdanel's lips curve into a smile against hers. She lifted her hips, willingly seeking that touch, and was rewarded by increased pressure. Her eyes flew open and a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escaped her lips as two long fingers circled the sensitive nub of flesh, pinched - and withdrew.

Unable to help herself, she pressed forward in an attempt to regain Nerdanel's fingers. There was a soft chuckle, and she glanced indignantly into the laughing face above.

"That's not very nice," she informed Nerdanel. What she meant to say, of course, was much less courteous -  _I want your fingers on me, in me, I want you to fuck me senseless right now._ But she had never been very good at putting her thoughts into words. Sometimes that was more of a problem than others.

"What would be nice, then?" The fingers were back, circling, sliding between her labia and painting the inside of her thighs with slick warmth. All thought of a coherent reply fled her mind as she whimpered slightly against Nerdanel's skin, tasting sweat and something darker, the taste that was undeniably Nerdanel's.

She slipped a finger inside her and crooked it, the drag of nail on sensitive flesh making Anairë squirm, eyes widening.

"Nerdanel..."

"Do you want this?" A second finger, then a third, pressing her wider. Anairë arched into Nerdanel's hand, grinding her clit against her warm palm, jolts of pleasure radiating upwards, through her entire body.

Apparently taking this as confirmation, Nerdanel's fingers slid in and out of Anairë, slick and fast, prompting gasps and high-pitched whines. Her thumb nudged the nub at the top of Anairë's cleft and that was all it took for the world to dissolve into light for a few scintillating seconds as she fell over the edge of a crashing wave of pleasure.

She came back to herself, panting, heart pounding loud in her ears, and the only thing her dazzled eyes could focus on was Nerdanel's face, ringed by a halo of flame red.

"My turn," Nerdanel whispered, and Anairë willingly shifted position, running her hands down her shoulders, past pebbled nipples to already wet curls of hair a darker red than that on the head that rested against Anairë's chest, moving slightly with every breath she took.

  _Beautiful,_ she thought vaguely, the word flickering across the golden post-coital haze that filled her world, and all she felt was Nerdanel's warmth, pressed against her - and everything was perfect.


End file.
